General Brown
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The Death of an Empire
- Thread starter Chingis Khan
- Start date
Gengis Khan
Deity
Hello,hello, Hello?? Is there anybody out there?
Bump. Chengis, you still around??
Bump. Chengis, you still around??
Don't worry, Gengis. 
Chingis Khan hasn't posted for a month, but he *is* in the USAF, in the Washington D.C. area, IIRC. He has "gotten busy" occasionally in the past, and has always managed to come back and finish his stories.
Off topic - Ever wonder how many "Khan"s we have here? There are 36 people who have "Khan" in their name, and *five* of those are variations of "Gengis Khan" - spelling variations, numbers added, etc.
Chingis Khan hasn't posted for a month, but he *is* in the USAF, in the Washington D.C. area, IIRC. He has "gotten busy" occasionally in the past, and has always managed to come back and finish his stories.
Off topic - Ever wonder how many "Khan"s we have here? There are 36 people who have "Khan" in their name, and *five* of those are variations of "Gengis Khan" - spelling variations, numbers added, etc.
Louis XXIV
Le Roi Soleil
I know this thread is slipping, but I think I'll wait a little while before I Bump it
Louis XXIV
Le Roi Soleil
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Le Roi Soleil
bump
Louis XXIV
Le Roi Soleil
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Chingis Khan
Scourge Of The World
The great Hall of the Senate fairly buzzed with activity. Scribes filled the richly adorned hallways, carrying their business as if the Empire depended on it. And in some respects, it did. Caeser was halfway to Rome with no less then nine legions under his command. He had already slaughtered over two thousand valient soldiers of Rome along the way and looked to be unstoppable. The entire city of Rome was fairly buzzing with the news. Rumors had spread throughout the great city, and across the surrounding lands, of the impending war; rumors that Caeser had a hundred thousand bloodthirsty renegades under his control, rumors that Caeser would kill every man woman and child when he arrived, rumors that he would remake Rome into a paradise, with gold flowing from the fountains! Each rumor more fanciful than the next. But Gnaeus Pompeius knew the truth.
Caeser was marching his noble way straight into the most devious trap ever conceived by mortal man. Gnaeus actually doubted that even the great Gods could match the machinations he himself had devised! He almost couldn't believe the good fortune the last three months had bought him. Caeser had proved to be such an absolute threat, even beyond what Gnaues had predicted, that the Senate had eagerly agreed to his "plans" to ally the Germans to their aid! Most of the old, crusty, dried up Senators expressed their resigned doubts that such an alliance could be formed, and Gnaeus had ben quick to agree, realizing that the harder his "impossible" task seemed, the more power it would grant him when he accomplished it. And of course, that task had already been accomplished months ago. Even now, Bismark's armies sat at the very borders of Rome, ready to charge in to the rescue! Gnaeus Pompeius laughed aloud as he walked through the bustling corridors of the Senate, oblivious to the strange looks he received from the various peons conducting their business along the fabulous halls. What fools! How could any of them possibly comprehend what Gnaeus had planned? How would any of them react when Gnaeus Pompieus become Emperor of Rome! They would all find out very soon, thought Gnaeus. Very soon indeed.
Caeser was marching his noble way straight into the most devious trap ever conceived by mortal man. Gnaeus actually doubted that even the great Gods could match the machinations he himself had devised! He almost couldn't believe the good fortune the last three months had bought him. Caeser had proved to be such an absolute threat, even beyond what Gnaues had predicted, that the Senate had eagerly agreed to his "plans" to ally the Germans to their aid! Most of the old, crusty, dried up Senators expressed their resigned doubts that such an alliance could be formed, and Gnaeus had ben quick to agree, realizing that the harder his "impossible" task seemed, the more power it would grant him when he accomplished it. And of course, that task had already been accomplished months ago. Even now, Bismark's armies sat at the very borders of Rome, ready to charge in to the rescue! Gnaeus Pompeius laughed aloud as he walked through the bustling corridors of the Senate, oblivious to the strange looks he received from the various peons conducting their business along the fabulous halls. What fools! How could any of them possibly comprehend what Gnaeus had planned? How would any of them react when Gnaeus Pompieus become Emperor of Rome! They would all find out very soon, thought Gnaeus. Very soon indeed.
Chingis Khan
Scourge Of The World
Caeser awoke with a start. His sweat plastered the heavy sheets to his body, as he gasped to regain his breath. The nightmares were getting worse and worse by the day. This one had been the worst of all. He had been standing in the middle of a raging battlefield, with men struggling for their lives all around. The noise had been incredible; dying screams, mixed with the clash of steel and a steady drumbeat of swords driving home into the fragile flesh of men. Then, in a heartbeat, it was all over and Caeser found himself adrift in a river of blood. His family had risen from that river, reaching out to him. Begging him to make it stop, to bring an end to their suffering, crying for vengence. Except where their faces should have been, were nothing but blurred hoods! Had he become so desensitized to his fellow man that he had forgotten his own family's faces? He fought to regain his breath and desperately tried to remember what his family looked like. With a flood of relief, the images came back to him, and he savored their visages with a desperation that scared him as badly as the dreams had.
A Centurion burst in through the tent flaps and drapes with his gladius in hand; he looked wildly around the tent before settling his eyes on Caeser's sweat-drenched body, "General Caeser! Is everything alright? I heard a cry."
Caeser wiped the sweat from his face before throwing aside his bedsheets and standing up, "Everything is fine, Centurion", he responded in a cold voice. How dare the man interrupt his private agony! Could he not see that all was well in the camp? "Are the men ready to march?"
The centurion blinked once before answering, "General, the men can be ready within the hour." He paused, looking down at his feet for a brief second, "But it is not even sun-up yet, Caeser. The men will not like being pushed like this."
Caeser marched to his chest and threw it open with such force, that even the Centurion flinched. Grabbing the first garments that came to hand he whirled on the hapless gaurd, "The men will like what I tell them! Ready the legions to march, I want to be ready to leave this place before the sun crests. We have a war to win."
The Centurion clasped one fist to his chest in salute, "As you command, General."
And indeed, the Legions of Caeser continued their march on Rome a full half an hour before the Sun God cast his watchful eye upon them...
A Centurion burst in through the tent flaps and drapes with his gladius in hand; he looked wildly around the tent before settling his eyes on Caeser's sweat-drenched body, "General Caeser! Is everything alright? I heard a cry."
Caeser wiped the sweat from his face before throwing aside his bedsheets and standing up, "Everything is fine, Centurion", he responded in a cold voice. How dare the man interrupt his private agony! Could he not see that all was well in the camp? "Are the men ready to march?"
The centurion blinked once before answering, "General, the men can be ready within the hour." He paused, looking down at his feet for a brief second, "But it is not even sun-up yet, Caeser. The men will not like being pushed like this."
Caeser marched to his chest and threw it open with such force, that even the Centurion flinched. Grabbing the first garments that came to hand he whirled on the hapless gaurd, "The men will like what I tell them! Ready the legions to march, I want to be ready to leave this place before the sun crests. We have a war to win."
The Centurion clasped one fist to his chest in salute, "As you command, General."
And indeed, the Legions of Caeser continued their march on Rome a full half an hour before the Sun God cast his watchful eye upon them...
Chingis Khan
Scourge Of The World
Shafts of the aftrenoon sun lanced through the shutters of the Four Horsemen, illuminating shafts of smoke across the tavern. The boistrous cacaphony of various conversations was sharply punctuated by bouts of the overloud laughter that only drunks can produce. Crassus paid no mind to the conversations of others, however. He was intent on getting drunk; very drunk. He slammed his empty mug on the bar and bellowed at the barkeep for another.
He had spent the last week in an alcoholic haze, working hard to forget what had drove him to drink in the first place. Yet despite the vast amounts of ale the big man consumed, he couldn't seem to forget at all. In fact, he felt more focused on the subject then ever! Dammit! What could have driven his dear old friend to madness? And Crassus had no doubts now that Caeser had slipped from sanity. The man had had his family killed, accused Crassus of treachery and now the crazy bastard had declared war on Rome! Well, the Senate anyway, but that amounted to the same thing, didn't it? The Senate was Rome. At first Crassus had tried to shake it off; to deal with it. But it ate at him like some sort of filthy disease. And the more he thought of it, the more unreal it seemed. Caeser had accused Crassus of betrayal, but in truth, Crassus had never felt so betrayed in all his life.
Barging his way through the crowded tavern, trying to find an empty seat to rest his huge frame, he overheard a group of four men talking loudly about the very subject he was trying to forget. Bits and pieces of the conversation floated through the noise to him,
"...that Caeser is absolutely out of his flaming mind! Mad as a..."
"...somebody will stop the flaming idiot before he reaches Rome. He can't take on the legions..."
"...I'm telling you, they say he kills one of his own gaurd every morning, just for the sport..."
Crassus could take no more. How dare these peasants talk about a great man in such a way! They had no right! They had never known him, certainly not as well as he did. It wasn't that he didn't agree with some of the things being said, it was the fact that this rabble was talking about things they had no idea about. Taking a man like Caeser and turning him into a laughing stock! The nerve! Crassus turned to the offending party with a murderous glint in his eyes.
He slammed his freshly filled mug on the table right in the middle of the four men with such force, that a full quarter of the mug emptied, splashing all over the table; and the men. They jerked back with various cries of indignation, but before they could speak a word, Crassus roared, "Which one of you spineless kneejerks spoke the words which named Caeser crazy!"
The four men looked confused for a second, then rightous anger crossed their faces and they began to stand. They were too late.
Without waiting for a reply, Crassus swung his mug into the face of the nearest men with a meaty thud. Not waiting for one heartbeat, he reversed his stroke, and drove the now crumpled metal into the belly of the man to his left. Rage gripped Crassus in an icy fury, and he roared an incomprehensible cry as he grabbed the table with his huge hands and lifted the heavy wood above his head. he felt the blow of at least three different fists strike the massive girth of his belly but if he felt any pain, he didn't show it. He bought the table crashing down on the nearest man in front of him with a sound that indicated bones breaking. Snorting heavily, Crassus looked through his red rage for another target, "C'mon, you worthless cowards! I'll gut you like fish at the market! I'll take your mothers and make women out of them..." He was cut off as somebody crashed into him from behind. He staggered, beginning to turn when another body crashed into his bulky frame, bringing him to his knees. Struggling drunkenly, he managed to grab someones face with one hand and he squeezed until he felt cartilage crush. He could hear the man's high pitched scream above the din of the barfight. That's when something quite solid struck Crassus in the back of his head, and he slumped unconscious, even as the brawl spread across the bar room.
He awoke much later in a jail cell with a stupendous headache, and a lot of explaining to do.
He had spent the last week in an alcoholic haze, working hard to forget what had drove him to drink in the first place. Yet despite the vast amounts of ale the big man consumed, he couldn't seem to forget at all. In fact, he felt more focused on the subject then ever! Dammit! What could have driven his dear old friend to madness? And Crassus had no doubts now that Caeser had slipped from sanity. The man had had his family killed, accused Crassus of treachery and now the crazy bastard had declared war on Rome! Well, the Senate anyway, but that amounted to the same thing, didn't it? The Senate was Rome. At first Crassus had tried to shake it off; to deal with it. But it ate at him like some sort of filthy disease. And the more he thought of it, the more unreal it seemed. Caeser had accused Crassus of betrayal, but in truth, Crassus had never felt so betrayed in all his life.
Barging his way through the crowded tavern, trying to find an empty seat to rest his huge frame, he overheard a group of four men talking loudly about the very subject he was trying to forget. Bits and pieces of the conversation floated through the noise to him,
"...that Caeser is absolutely out of his flaming mind! Mad as a..."
"...somebody will stop the flaming idiot before he reaches Rome. He can't take on the legions..."
"...I'm telling you, they say he kills one of his own gaurd every morning, just for the sport..."
Crassus could take no more. How dare these peasants talk about a great man in such a way! They had no right! They had never known him, certainly not as well as he did. It wasn't that he didn't agree with some of the things being said, it was the fact that this rabble was talking about things they had no idea about. Taking a man like Caeser and turning him into a laughing stock! The nerve! Crassus turned to the offending party with a murderous glint in his eyes.
He slammed his freshly filled mug on the table right in the middle of the four men with such force, that a full quarter of the mug emptied, splashing all over the table; and the men. They jerked back with various cries of indignation, but before they could speak a word, Crassus roared, "Which one of you spineless kneejerks spoke the words which named Caeser crazy!"
The four men looked confused for a second, then rightous anger crossed their faces and they began to stand. They were too late.
Without waiting for a reply, Crassus swung his mug into the face of the nearest men with a meaty thud. Not waiting for one heartbeat, he reversed his stroke, and drove the now crumpled metal into the belly of the man to his left. Rage gripped Crassus in an icy fury, and he roared an incomprehensible cry as he grabbed the table with his huge hands and lifted the heavy wood above his head. he felt the blow of at least three different fists strike the massive girth of his belly but if he felt any pain, he didn't show it. He bought the table crashing down on the nearest man in front of him with a sound that indicated bones breaking. Snorting heavily, Crassus looked through his red rage for another target, "C'mon, you worthless cowards! I'll gut you like fish at the market! I'll take your mothers and make women out of them..." He was cut off as somebody crashed into him from behind. He staggered, beginning to turn when another body crashed into his bulky frame, bringing him to his knees. Struggling drunkenly, he managed to grab someones face with one hand and he squeezed until he felt cartilage crush. He could hear the man's high pitched scream above the din of the barfight. That's when something quite solid struck Crassus in the back of his head, and he slumped unconscious, even as the brawl spread across the bar room.
He awoke much later in a jail cell with a stupendous headache, and a lot of explaining to do.
Louis XXIV
Le Roi Soleil
Wahoo, Chingis is back 
Thanks for the story, getting more interesting every moment.
Thanks for the story, getting more interesting every moment.
Chingis Khan
Scourge Of The World
Gnaeus Pompieus had ridden many hard days and nights across the land to reach this site. He and his entourage had gone through many horses along the way and now, the only horses they had left were the ones they rode upon. Even these last looked to be on the verge of death as they plodded their weary way up the gentle embankment of the low-lying hill. But Gnaeus cared little for the good horses they had destroyed making this journey, for even as the remaining steeds were on the brink of death, he himself was on the brink of remaking an entire empire!
He rode at the head of the column of well over two hundred men, made up of his gaurds, slaves and workers. Weary mounts aside, they made a fine sight. Gnaeus had insisted on sparing no pomp, though the Praetorians had made quite a fuss over carrying the extra weight when they had no time to waste on this journey. No less then two standard bearers bore the great Eagle, and they rode on either side of Pompieus. Ten lengths back came the Praetorian gaurd, who had changed into their ceremonial armor some ten miles back, grumbling and complaining whenever they thought they couldn't be heard. Following them came the slaves, garbed in fabulous cloths and silks.
But for all the splendor that Gnaeus had provided for this meeting, the Germans made a finer impression still. Gnaeus was a little put out as he crested the hill and beheld the King of Germany. Bismark sat astride a truly massive warhorse, both garbed in fabulously ornate armor, which somehow made that of the Praetorians seem dull. Gathered around him were the King's Honor Gaurd. Only forty men, yet they somehow seemed greater in presence. And their armor was only slightly less ornate then the Kings. And all around the camp entrance, the Lion Crest of Germany was displayed on huge banners. Gnaeus silently ground his teeth in annoyance. How dare this barbarian king show up the soon-to-be Emporer of Rome! With some effort, Gnaeus forced his face to display what he believed was a most stately expression, quite unconcerned with such trivial things as displays of wealth and splendor. After all, he had just finished a long and arduous trek, while the Germans had spent the time sleeping and gossiping no doubt. But still, it really bothered him.
Bismark allowed himself a small smile as the foolish Senator came into view. His scouts had informed him that the Roman envoy had changed some miles back into their finest, as if they were attending a royal function, but the German King could barely believe it. Trying to impress him! Fools! He turned slightly in his saddle and spoke to his war minister.
"All is prepared?"
The mininster preened at his oiled moustache and replied in a voice even more oily, "Of course, Sire. The Romans never even knew we were here, on their own borders. The fools will never learn of our second army until it marches down their throat!"
Bismark faced the approaching Senator and smiled even more broadly. When his army joined with the Roman legions in facing Caeser, the city of Rome would lay relatively undefended. And his second, larger army lay in wait on the Eastern borders. The short-sighted Roman Senator had made it all so easy for him. He chuckled in anticipation of his coming conquest, and the riches and glory it would bring Germany.
He rode at the head of the column of well over two hundred men, made up of his gaurds, slaves and workers. Weary mounts aside, they made a fine sight. Gnaeus had insisted on sparing no pomp, though the Praetorians had made quite a fuss over carrying the extra weight when they had no time to waste on this journey. No less then two standard bearers bore the great Eagle, and they rode on either side of Pompieus. Ten lengths back came the Praetorian gaurd, who had changed into their ceremonial armor some ten miles back, grumbling and complaining whenever they thought they couldn't be heard. Following them came the slaves, garbed in fabulous cloths and silks.
But for all the splendor that Gnaeus had provided for this meeting, the Germans made a finer impression still. Gnaeus was a little put out as he crested the hill and beheld the King of Germany. Bismark sat astride a truly massive warhorse, both garbed in fabulously ornate armor, which somehow made that of the Praetorians seem dull. Gathered around him were the King's Honor Gaurd. Only forty men, yet they somehow seemed greater in presence. And their armor was only slightly less ornate then the Kings. And all around the camp entrance, the Lion Crest of Germany was displayed on huge banners. Gnaeus silently ground his teeth in annoyance. How dare this barbarian king show up the soon-to-be Emporer of Rome! With some effort, Gnaeus forced his face to display what he believed was a most stately expression, quite unconcerned with such trivial things as displays of wealth and splendor. After all, he had just finished a long and arduous trek, while the Germans had spent the time sleeping and gossiping no doubt. But still, it really bothered him.
Bismark allowed himself a small smile as the foolish Senator came into view. His scouts had informed him that the Roman envoy had changed some miles back into their finest, as if they were attending a royal function, but the German King could barely believe it. Trying to impress him! Fools! He turned slightly in his saddle and spoke to his war minister.
"All is prepared?"
The mininster preened at his oiled moustache and replied in a voice even more oily, "Of course, Sire. The Romans never even knew we were here, on their own borders. The fools will never learn of our second army until it marches down their throat!"
Bismark faced the approaching Senator and smiled even more broadly. When his army joined with the Roman legions in facing Caeser, the city of Rome would lay relatively undefended. And his second, larger army lay in wait on the Eastern borders. The short-sighted Roman Senator had made it all so easy for him. He chuckled in anticipation of his coming conquest, and the riches and glory it would bring Germany.
Louis XXIV
Le Roi Soleil
Bump
Cspiffy148
Chieftain
This is an outstanding story! Are you going to finish it?
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